


pink lemonade

by Jacks8n



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, they cherish each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 02:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacks8n/pseuds/Jacks8n
Summary: Gon and Killua have "frequent customer" discounts at all the hospitals.





	pink lemonade

Gon felt as though no time had passed since he’d been put to sleep in the chilly operating room. His tongue was heavy and his eyelids may as well have been lead blankets. He tried to open them, but wasn't able to catch onto anything to focus. That was okay, though. He wasn’t very motivated to get up and moving yet.

Beeping monitors weren’t new to him. If you listened to them long enough, they almost sounded like music. An odd music, one that never went anywhere, but pleasant all the same. He tried to hum along to the melody-devoid song, but his dry throat couldn’t produce much noise.

As the sedation faded he was able to pick out more than the dream-like flutter of the machines and comfy haze of the sheets. Footsteps occasionally passed by in the hallway. An open window let in the muggy summer air, all stale and hot. And there was someone breathing very close.

Gon peeked his eyes open and tried to push himself up. The custard yellow room spun and he felt as though he was going to vomit. He let himself flop back down.

There was a puff of white beside him.

Killua had pulled a chair close and fallen asleep with his face in his arms, slumped on the bed. Gon frowned. Killua was a light sleeper and Gon had been doing plenty of shuffling.

On impulse, he reached down and ran a hand through Killua’s hair.

Nothing.

Gon sat up then, fighting against the vertigo. He blinked his sore red eyes.

“Killua?”

It was only then he noticed the empty bed beside him, covers crumpled at the end. It suddenly dawned on Gon that all the beeping monitors weren’t for him.

Gon kept petting his hand through Killua’s hair.

“Idiot.” If Killua had followed the plan they had agreed on, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Gon winced. His recollection was hazy, but if Killua had followed the plan, Gon would probably be a lot... less alive. “And sorry.”

Bisky was in the doorway.

“Again!” she said. The noise bounced around in his skull like out of tune bells, making him feel like someone was trying to dent in his temples with their bare hands.

“Hi Bisky,” croaked Gon. He cleared his scratchy throat.

She pointed at him accusingly. “You two are stupid and you’re worse when you’re together.”

“I know.”

She huffed, hands on her hips, standing at the end of the bed.

“I am glad you’re okay, though.”

“Yeah.” Gon coughed, pointing at Killua. “Is he?”

Bisky shrugged. “He’s practically indestructible,” she said. “He’ll live.”

“Oh.” Gon didn’t know what he’d been hoping to hear, but it wasn’t that. Killua’s will was stronger than his body, and he was good at hiding pain until he broke down. Gon had seen him brush off ludicrous injuries with a shrug and a wicked smile. If he was cooperating with treatment, it didn’t bode well.

Bisky lifted Killua up and he snapped something incoherent at her as his head lolled back, but he didn’t wake up. She dropped him onto his bed, then tried to pull the covers over his chest. He smacked her arm with a feeble shout, and his eyes flashed open for a brief moment, but he didn’t seem conscious.

“Okay, okay!” she said, backing off. “So mean. Gon, don’t let him up before checking with a nurse.”

“Okay.”

“And try to sleep. The team wants to hear from you both as soon as you’re well enough.”

She closed the door on her way out.

Gon still felt like shit, but he was definitely awake now. He pushed himself up so that he was sitting with his back against the headboard. The I.V. in his hand itched. He tried not to pick at it.

He could see Killua’s face now. There was a deep bruise on his jaw, blooming dark and purple. Otherwise, his skin was sallow. The usual weak blush was replaced with a sickly green wash. His eyebrows were drawn together slightly, as though he were irritated. Killua shivered and curled up tighter. Gon’s chest felt as though it were being wrung, and he uselessly reached out his hands. Killua was too far to reach.

He sat for awhile, trying not to jump at every unusual beep, but sitting got boring, even if it was staccatoed with intense moments of panic that Killua was dying. There were no crutches nearby, so there would be no walking.

Gon used his good leg to push his cot closer to Killua’s, close enough that he could transfer himself between the two without having to hop. It was tricky to maneuver the I.V.s and machines around each other, especially with his knee in an unforgiving brace, but he finally managed to sit down beside Killua over the covers he had pulled up.

“Sorry,” Gon whispered, brushing the tips of his fingers along Killua’s hairline. “Just be okay, alright?”

Gon pulled the blanket from his bed over and draped it over Killua. The room was hot as hell, but Killua was shivering. Gon wasn’t sure what that meant.

It was almost an hour—during which time a nurse came in and took out the I.V. in the back of his hand—before Killua stirred. His whole body tensed, and his breathing became sharper.

Killua moaned, but it turned into a yawn.

“Killua?”

“Is Bisky still here?”

Killua opened his eyes. They rolled around, unfocused. Killua closed his eyes.

“No. Do you want her?”

“She said we had to do a talk. When is it?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are we late?”

“Killua, it’s okay. Just sleep.”

“Mm.” He didn’t sound like he believed Gon, but he also didn’t sound like he had enough energy to be stubborn.

Gon scritched his nails through Killua’s hair as Killua breathed, heavy and whooshing out his mouth.

“Oh,” said Killua. “You’re in my bed.”

“You were in mine first.”

Killua licked his lips, eyes squinting tighter. “Sorry,” said Killua. “Thought I dreamed that.”

Gon tilted his head affectionately. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.”

Gon didn’t pry. Sometimes it was easier to let Killua say prideful lies without challenge.

Killua tried to push himself up to sit beside Gon but halfway up his breath hitched in pain. Gon caught him by his shoulders and helped to rest him back down without a word.

As a bright summer day passed them by outside the window, Gon ran his fingers through Killua’s hair and Killua curled towards him under the covers. Warbling bird song, lazy and content, mixed with the hum of the hospital. The clouds Gon could spot between the cracks of the buildings were white and full.

Killua managed to free a hand from the covers, not without considerable effort, and dropped it, curled in a weak fist, on Gon’s thigh. Gon covered it with his free hand.

“We should go on a picnic,” said Gon.

Killua hummed his agreement. “I want chocolate strawberries.”

“I’ll get you chocolate strawberries then.”

Killua smiled and nuzzled his forehead into Gon’s hip. 

***

“I can carry a backpack, you know,” said Killua. It was a beautiful late summer’s day, and Killua’s first time outside since arriving at the hospital. Gon had been cleared three weeks earlier, though he was still on crutches. He was used enough to them now though that they hardly slowed him down.

“I know,” said Gon, not moving to trade it for the knit blanket in Killua’s arms.

Twice in their march up the hill behind the hospital Gon casually stopped so that Killua could catch his breath. If Killua noticed Gon’s motive behind pointing out caterpillars hanging from the trees or which window exactly was Killua’s room, he didn’t mention it.

At the top, they looked out over the city. It grew up the sides of the valley like ivy on castle walls, ever-expanding and dense. Killua nodded out at the view with his hands on his hips before flopping down onto the grass, arms outstretched. His breaths were heaving. Gon lay beside him.

They pointed out shapes in the clouds that drifted overhead. At first they just went with what was obvious. Kitten, bowl, mushroom. But that got boring, so they started identifying the clouds as more and more specific things. The joke began to cannibalize itself, until Killua would only say they looked like “you”. After one particularly enthused guffaw, he clutched at his stomach, fingers curling in the fabric. Gon bit his lip, but said nothing.

“Lemonade?” he asked, sitting up and unscrewing a thermos. Killua rolled up to join him, Gon ghosting a hand on the small of his back until he was settled. “It’s pink.”

“Yum,” said Killua.

Gon poured them both paper cups. Killua rested his head on Gon’s shoulder as they sipped at their deliciously cold drinks. He could feel Killua’s breath on his skin.

Killua squished his nose into the juncture between Gon’s neck and shoulder.

“Hey,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing. Just… hey.”

“Hey to you too.”

Killua chuckled against him.

Gon suddenly snapped his fingers. Killua perked up, eyes wide. “Strawberries!”

“What?”

“I made you chocolate covered strawberries,” said Gon, digging through the bag.

“You remembered,” said Killua. Something about his shy smile made Gon so giddy he itched to run until he burned and jump so high he could touch the clouds.

“Of course,” said Gon, smile crooked.

Killua huffed a laugh through his nose and bonked their foreheads together. Gon pushed back against him, ducking in for a quick kiss that was more just smushing their smiles against each other.

It was always nice, the calm after the storm.


End file.
